All He Wants (5 page)

This was not going to help her prince, knight-in-shining-armor fantasies.

“That’s right.” Jessie shifted in her chair. “I remember Sophie mentioning that Grandpa J was going fishing this weekend.”

Grandpa J, aka The Colonel, was Jessie’s cousin-in-law’s actual blood relative, but he’d been adopted by everyone in Harper’s Crossing, the small town where Jessie was from. It also happened to be the current residence of one Billy Marshall. Maxi had met Grandpa J on several occasions, and over the past couple of years he and her dad had struck up quite the friendship. They golfed. Fished. Argued about sports.

“Right, I forgot…Dad texted me last night about the trip.” Normally, Maxi wouldn’t forget details like that but with all the stress she’d been under, it seemed that her brain was processing information like sand sifting through a strainer. Some granules stayed and some slipped away.

When the text had come in, she’d been so happy to hear that her dad was taking a weekend to relax and fish. He worked too hard, and lately she’d been noticing that he was getting tired, really tired, after the smallest amount of physical exertion.

“Great.” Jessie’s tone broadcasted finality as she stood. “I’m glad that’s settled. Maxi, why don’t you go ahead and take the rest of the day off. We’ll see you back here Monday morning. Call me if you need anything.”

The last part of her boss’s statement was directed at both Billy and Maxi.

On still shaky legs, Maxi pushed to stand and Billy did the same.

“I’ll stop by the event before—”

“No need.” Jessie cut her off. “You have a good team that is handling everything. I’ve been in constant contact with them and everything is running smoothly. Besides, by the time you make it across town, the only people there would be the cleanup crew.”

Over? What? How could that be? She was sure it was still before noon. Maxi looked down at her wrist watch. Everything since she’d opened the door to find her condo ransacked was a blur. The police showing up. Her being interviewed by three separate officers. Going down to the station to give her official statement, then finally coming into work, and going directly into this meeting.

It was almost three p.m.

Shit
.

The listening luncheon was over. Her mind started racing with how she would explain her absence to Ricco. He’d been surrounded by yes people since he was fourteen and hit unprecedented internet fame with his cover of The Jackson Five’s “I’ll Be There.” Now at twenty, he’d spent years having his every whim catered to. Maxi knew he wouldn’t be happy about the fact that she wasn’t there today.

As if reading her mind Jessie stood taller. “He’s one client. If he doesn’t like the work our firm does, then he can move on. We were fine before you signed him, we’ll be fine after. One client does not define us.”

Just as Maxi was going to tell Jessie that while she appreciated the sentiment, the truth was, this client
did
define her, the door swung open before she got the chance.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we have a code red.” Jessie’s assistant, Martin, swept into the room with dramatic flair. “Colby Saint just got detained at customs. Apparently he decided it was a good idea to bring back pot in his suitcase. He’s on line two making about as much sense as a waterproof towel.”

Jessie gave a quick nod as she picked up the phone on her desk.

Maxi and Billy both followed Martin out of the office, before they made it to the door Martin turned to them and mimicked smoking weed.

She found herself smiling for the first time that day. Martin had a way of always making her smile. He never let whatever stressful situation was happening—which in their line of work, there were always fires to be put out—affect his mood. He brought sunshine and light into the world. He was her emotional safe place.

Billy was a safe place, too. Which scared her even more than her car being broken into, a package containing dead birds, naked photos being taken of her and distributed, or her apartment being broken into.

Billy was the kind of safe that was all kinds of dangerous. Not physically dangerous…emotionally dangerous. The scariest kind of dangerous.

A
s soon as the door to the office shut, Martin stopped and turned on his designer shoes effectively blocking the hallway.

Tilting his head to the side he let out a prolonged sigh. “Ricco has called five times.”

“Wait. What?” She lifted her phone and it didn’t show any missed calls.

“You had me forward everything when you went in to give your statement.” Martin spoke slowly.

“Oh, right.” Maxi shook her head as she remembered that she’d been afraid that Ricco or his manager might try to contact her, and she didn’t get service in the police station. “What did you tell him?”

“That you were dealing with
real life
problems and you’d get to his prima donna ass when you were done.”

“You didn’t.” Maxi was sure that he was kidding, but she still felt her stomach drop.

This was Martin after all. He surprised her. A lot.

“No, but I should have. I don’t know how you and Jessie deal with these drama queens.”

Maxi couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips. That was the epitome of the pot calling the kettle black, which she was sure was intentional on Martin’s part. He loved his drama queen reputation.

The phone attached to his hip buzzed and he looked down. “Duty calls. Do you want me to keep fielding calls from the diva?”

“No, you can send them to my phone.”

Before he headed back down the hall towards his office he stepped up to Billy. She’d spent enough time around alpha men to recognize the showdown for what it was. Martin was sizing Billy up. Silently. She didn’t have a doubt in her mind that whatever criteria Billy Marshall was held up to, he wouldn’t just meet it, he would exceed it.

Well, unless that criteria involved a committed relationship. Then he would fail miserably. His longest relationship had lasted three weeks. And she was pretty sure that had only happened because the woman was a Brazilian model who was here on holiday.

Part of her thought she should tell Martin that he didn’t need to do…whatever he was doing. That she’d known Billy for half her life and he would never let anyone hurt her, especially not Billy himself. At least, not intentionally.

But she didn’t. If Billy didn’t want Martin sizing him up, he’d put a stop to it. If she’d learned anything growing up around all that testosterone, it was that it was best to let situations like these play themselves out.

As she watched the staring contest, she couldn’t help but note how interesting it was to see the two of them toe to toe. They were around the same height, about six two. But that’s where there similarities ended. Martin had a slim and athletic frame, dark hair and dark eyes. He was manicured to perfection. Billy had light brown hair, golden eyes, a square jaw, and full lips. His shoulders were wide and rounded with muscle. His chest was broad. His arms where thick with hard-earned strength. His hands were…well, as was a common trait of boxers, his hands were
large
.

Whatever Martin had been looking for, apparently he got his answer. “Good,” he said with a single nod of approval before brushing past them.

“Okayyyy,” she whispered as she watched him go.

“Are you?” Billy asked as he turned and looked down at her, the intensity in his stare caused her breath to hitch.

The second their eyes met, the air that surrounded them felt like it had been sucked out of the atmosphere. The walls on either side of them felt like they were closing in. Like the entire world was shrinking down to the two them.

“What?” Her voice came out as a small whisper. Almost inaudible.

“Are you okay?” His gaze turned even darker and her legs started doing their best noodle impression once again.

“I’m fine.” It was the standard answer that she’d been giving to everyone today, but this was the first time it really felt like a lie.

His jaw tightened at her answer and she was pretty sure that she knew what he was going to say.

“Sorry.” The apology fell from her lips. She wasn’t even exactly sure what she was apologizing for. For not telling him what had been going on with her. For him finding out from his boss. For her arguing about him being on her security detail. For all of the above.

“
You
don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His deep voice rolled over her in a soothing wave as he took a step closer to her.

They were maybe an inch apart. She had to tilt her neck to meet his gaze. Heat radiated off his body and the air was filled with the soap and musk scent that was uniquely his. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting herself luxuriate in the moment that felt suspended in time.

It was cut short when her phone chimed. She looked down and saw that it was Ricco’s manager, the legendary Alan Turner.

Clearing her throat, she tried to get her head in the game before answering the call. After a deep breath she swiped the screen, “Alan, I’m so happy to hea—”

“What the hell is going on?” Before she could even get her entire greeting out he cut her off. “You weren’t at the airport this morning. You didn’t’ show up at the listening party. We’re about to get back on the plane and Ricco is starting to wonder if he’s a priority at all.”

“Of course he is. I can be at the airport in less than thirty minutes to assure him that—”

“Don’t bother. We’ll be in the air by then. I’ve smoothed everything over this time, which is ridiculous. It’s not my job to spin things, it yours. If you pull this shit next week, you’re on your own. This is the last time I bail your ass out.”

With that promise he disconnected the call. When the line went dead, Maxi’s heart sank. Dropping her head, she let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Billy reached up and brushed his hand down her arm. She was sure that he’d meant the gesture to be comforting but it felt much closer to seduction.

“He’s just one client,” he repeated what Jessie had said.

No. He’s not.

There were only a handful of game-changing clients, and he was one of them. The fact that their firm wasn’t based out of New York or Los Angeles already worked against them when it came to getting A-list clientele. Ricco wasn’t just on the A list, he sat at the top. Representing him was going to shine a very bright spotlight on the firm, and she’d blown it on the first event.

“Don’t beat yourself up over this. He’s not worth it.”

“Yes.” Maxi nodded. “Ricco Kingsley
is
.”

His voice and expression were unimpressed. “He’s not.”

“You don’t understand, he’s bigger than the Beatles in the sixties.”

“I know. I saw his fans up close and personal.”

“Really?” Maxi crossed her arms. “Was your last flavor of the week part of Ricco-Nation?”

“No.”

“I mean, I know you like ’em young, but—”

“I saw them camped out when I landed this morning, smartass.”

“When you landed? Where were you?”

A small grin tilted his lips and Maxi wanted to do a happy dance.

Since Billy had arrived, he’d looked like a caged animal. He may have appeared composed to someone who didn’t know him as well as she did. But to her, his energy was like a hungry lion pacing back and forth behind bars, waiting for the second he was free so he could hunt his prey and kill it.

She’d recognized the savage look in his eye from every time she’d seen him climb between the ropes. Billy Marshall outside of the ring was a laid back, charmer. Inside the ring he was a killer. That was part of the reason that he’d been nicknamed “The Big Bad Wolf”—he was disarming until it was time to go in for the kill.

“D.C. On another job.”

“But you were at a fundraiser at Senator Robbins’ last night.” The event had been covered by local news and Maxi had immediately spotted Billy. Her body had actually registered that it was him before her eyes were able to send the information to her brain. The second the camera had scanned past him her stomach had flipped at his large frame and alpha stance.

She’d never thought anything could come close to hitting the same numbers he reached on the sexiness scale when he was training or fighting. Watching him in those environments was like witnessing a gladiator from the Roman Empire. The ultimate male specimen. Every muscle in his body was highlighted by a sheen of sweat that glistened off his perfect form.

But seeing him last night on the news, in a suit with the same intense stare as when he was facing an opponent, well, that did actually come pretty close after all. The dichotomy of the formal clothes and the barbaric expression was hot. Really, really hot.

“Keepin’ tabs on me, huh?” He smiled wide enough to activate his panty-dropper one-two punch—the deep dimples that appeared on his right and left cheek. “You know, if you miss me that bad, you can always sext me.”

“In your dreams.”

“How did you know?” He winked, and the combination of that and the bad boy grin had her eyes tearing
up
and her body tingling
down
.

“I have to go get tickets from my office before we go.” She spun around, hoping that he didn’t catch her misty eyes and started down the hall.